


New Pretty

by wasatch_97



Series: i'm in love with that Pretty side of you, the one They'd like to cut away [1]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Body Image, Han Jisung | Han-centric, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Love Confessions, M/M, Separation, Societal Norms, a fair amount of crying, dystopian au, except more intense, futuristic aspects, plastic surgery, this might be multiple parts if i feel up to it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:14:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26197702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wasatch_97/pseuds/wasatch_97
Summary: “Jisung-ie, you’re beautiful.”The words are something Jisung had gotten used to after years of hearing them, though he could never believe them. How could he, when he knew he wasn't Pretty? How could he when he was next to Lee Minho, decidedly the most beautiful man who wasn’t Pretty yet? Minho, who somehow disliked the idea of becoming Pretty.“Minnie,”he would whine,“but I’m not Pretty. I’m so Ugly, how can you say that?”
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Series: i'm in love with that Pretty side of you, the one They'd like to cut away [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1902487
Comments: 10
Kudos: 58





	New Pretty

**Author's Note:**

> this is unedited so obv a mess, also this is based off a book series that I read when I was like eleven and can't remember the name of,, anyways kudos to that author

_“Jisung-ie, you’re beautiful.”_

The words are something Jisung had gotten used to after years of hearing them, though he could never believe them. How could he, when he knew he wasn't Pretty? How could he when he was next to Lee Minho, decidedly the most beautiful man who wasn’t Pretty yet? Minho, who somehow disliked the idea of becoming Pretty. 

_“Minnie,”_ he would whine, _“but I’m not Pretty. I’m so Ugly, how can you say that?”_

Minho would click his tongue in disapproval, and usually move onto a different topic to lift Jisung’s spirits. But one night, just hours before Minho’s nineteenth birthday and the surgery that would make him Pretty, he hadn’t changed the subject. Instead he slid off the couch where they had been curled up together and kneeled in front of Jisung with his hands on the younger boy’s knees. 

_“Sung,”_ he’d said, _“there’s a saying that I like that’s from a long time ago. It’s ‘Beauty is relative.’ To me that means that the surgery only makes us Pretty if we believe it does. I know that things will change, but if beauty is relative, I also know you’ll never be as beautiful as you are right now.”_

Minho had raised a hand to caress the softness of Jisung’s cheek and push the liquid of his tears aside. Jisung’s heart had burst and shattered in that moment, because all the feelings he’d built up over the years ached to be let loose. Aching to be closer, Jisung had slid off the couch and found his way into Minho’s arms on the carpeted floor. 

_“I’m scared,”_ Jisung had whispered against the collar of Minho’s shirt when they had spread out against the floor, their legs tangled together as they held each other fast. 

_“I know.”_ Minho kissed over the curve of one of Jisung’s cheeks, over the chub Jisung had hated all his life. 

_“Don’t forget me when you leave,”_ Jisung had continued, his voice growing thick at the thought of Minho leaving him for two years, until Jisung would undergo the surgery and move to New Pretty town too. 

_“I promise I won’t,”_ Minho told him. _“I’ll message you every day. How could I ever forget my Jisung?”_

Jisung’s blush had been deep but his tears still came. _“Minnie…”_

Minho always read Jisung perfectly. He had understood Jisung’s anxiety and grief and fear, and simply hugged him closer. _“Promise me you won’t obsess over the surgery and being Pretty. Focus on school and your other friends, okay? I…”_

Minho had sounded choked up, and when Jisung drew away to see what was wrong, his heart had broken for good when he realized Minho was crying. Minho was never one to cry, and when he did, there was something terribly wrong. 

_“Minnie, what is it? Why are you crying?”_ Jisung felt near-frantic as his hands fluttered over Minho’s arms and shoulders. 

_“I’m just scared,”_ Minho had whispered with wet eyes. _“I don’t want to leave you, and to think I would leave you alone to your thoughts, I can’t bear the idea of that. When I think of that I can’t make myself think of leaving.”_

Jisung felt just as crushed as Minho looked. _“I’ll be fine. Two years and I’ll be with you, right?”_

 _“Right.”_ Minho smiled, albeit wetly. “ _Just two years.”_

Jisung had spent hours that night committing every detail of Minho’s face to his memory. Of the shapes of his face and the pretty shadows his eyelashes made against his skin when his eyes finally closed. Jisung studied the sun-kissed color of his skin, some places lighter than others from uneven sun-exposure. He smiled at the sprinkle of freckles across Minho’s cheeks and forehead, and at the wisps of black hair that drifted slightly at the movement of the air vent coming from the upper corner of the room. 

The next morning Jisung woke up with a sore back and a kink in his neck from sleeping on the floor. It took him mere seconds to realize Minho was gone. 

Two days later he received a message from the Council that Minho’s surgery was complete and he would be relocated to New Pretty once he recovered. 

A week after that Jisung got a message from Minho; just a few lines, telling Jisung he was okay and that he was excited for the new chapter of his life. 

He didn’t hear from Minho again. 

~

Jisung stares at himself in his mirror, frowning unhappily. His surgery is in just a month and he’s thrilled; thrilled to finally be rid of his appearance of now. 

He tugs unhappily at one of his cheeks and then grits his teeth to look at his crooked front tooth. 

He’s far from Pretty, but that will change. 

Jisung sighs, looking out his window towards the glowing lights of New Pretty. He’s nervous and excited, so excited for being Pretty, but also for finding Minho. While he’s riddled with nerves and filled with questions of why Minho had practically disappeared, he aches to see his best friend again. Two years is a long time to feel alone. 

Turning away from his mirror Jisung sinks down into his desk chair, fiddling with the power button of the screen that makes up the top of the table. Once powered on he searches up pictures of New Pretty, a thought circling in his mind. 

The town is walled in, and the few pictures that have been supplied to the general web are from outside those walls. Jisung supposes the purpose of limited exposure is to make Uglies like him want to leave their previous lives behind even more. New Pretty is a way of inventing yourself over again, Jisung’s been told. With a better appearance everything will come naturally. 

Jisung has spent nearly two years wishing Minho would tell him about New Pretty, to give him hope in some way. Because Jisung has been so, so alone, to a point where it’s so crippling that he can hardly breathe. He has no way to contact Minho besides heaps of unanswered messages that he’s not sure Minho is even receiving. 

Jisung presses his fingertips over a picture of the New Pretty walls. He’s thought about going there to find Minho before, but has never had the guts to. He’s scared to find out the truth; has Minho really moved on from him? He knows it’s the most likely answer to the burning lack of replies. The only hitch in his idea is that Uglies aren’t permitted to cross into the town. 

Can he put himself at risk to look for Minho? 

Is he that desperate to see his best friend that he can’t wait another month? 

Jisung lets his head hit the desk, exhaustion overwhelming him. Deep in his heart he knows what he wants to do, and it’s nothing short of terrifying. The rules from the Council are there for a reason, right? To keep everyone safe. 

But…

“Fuck it.” 

It’s a little cold outside, and Jisung pulls his flannel closer around him. It doesn’t do much against the chill of the wind when he gets on his hoverboard, but he doesn’t turn around and go back to his room in the House because if he does he knows he’ll lose his nerve. 

It’s about a half-hour flight to New Pretty, and Jisung spends the time mulling over his choices. If he’s caught what would his consequences be? 

He isn’t sure, but it wouldn’t be anything good. Far from it.

Jisung can hear the music coming from New Pretty from half a mile away. As he draws closer the sound only grows louder; the noise of partying overwhelming everything else. He knows New Pretty is known for its parties, but it’s still shocking; he’s never been to a party, and definitely not like the ones he’s heard originate from here. He wonders if that’s what Minho is doing, has been doing. Partying. 

Jisung scoffs. 

Up close the walls of New Pretty are nothing short of intimidating. They must reach several yards up into the sky, and with Jisung’s small stature, he feels even more miniscule. 

Jisung lands in the cover of some trees, and once he’s unstrapped his feet from his board he tucks it away in the security of a flowering bush, hoping he’ll be able to remember where he’s left it. The next step of his plan is shaky - he needs to get inside. Unsure of how, he takes a step out of the cover of trees, wincing at the guards that line the nearby gate. 

Fuck. 

“...And I said ‘No, you can’t have my lipstick, get your own!’” A voice cries, followed by a string of laughter. Jisung looks to his left, spotting a handful of Pretties walking together towards the gate. Ignoring their chatter Jisung focuses on their appearances; they seem to all be in costume, complete with pretty masks. 

If he could only…

“This thing has been annoying me all evening,” a Pretty scoffs, pulling at the strings of his mask. 

Jisung watches in delight as the Pretty tosses the mask away, continuing on with his friends as if he hadn’t blessed Jisung with a perfect opportunity. 

Jogging, Jisung hurries to where the mask had landed, wincing at the smudge of dirt that had stained the pretty silver fabric when the Pretty had thrown it. But deeming it still useable Jisung pulls it on, immediately hiding the upper part of his face. He hopes no one will notice the faint scar on his chin from his childhood, but the darkness of oncoming night plays to his favor. 

Taking a steadying breath Jisung hurries to catch up with the next small cluster of Pretties entering the city. He walks about a yard from them, praying that the guards won’t spot him. 

With his heart beating double-time, Jisung somehow manages to get through, masquerading as a party-goer. 

New Pretty is sparkling. 

It glitters just like the Pretties it houses, with perfectly trimmed trees strung with lights along the paths and shiny buildings that look like they haven’t ever seen a speck of dirt. Jisung winces as he looks down at his ratty shoes, crying a bit inside when he realizes he’d worn his jeans with the unintentional holes at the knees made from picking the threads bare. 

Unprepared. It’s one of the many emotions he feels. 

He weaves his way through throngs of Pretties, heading in the direction of what he hopes is where the Houses are. 34A is what he remembers Minho telling him a few days before his surgery. That’s where he’d live. 

Jisung hopes he hasn’t moved. 

The building is easy to find, because of the lettering and numbers above the front door and the sound coming from within. Pretties litter the front steps, talking between themselves and holding fruity-smelling drinks. The scent wafts towards Jisung as he passes up the steps and it makes him a bit nauseous. 

There’s no one standing guard in the open doorway so Jisung just enters, shifting through the crowds of Pretties. He spots a staircase just opposite him and hurries for it, hoping to get a somewhat-aerial view of the large room. 

He makes it up the steps and stands at the landing, peering over the rail. The Pretties are dancing below him, all glittering shirts and shimmering dresses. The music is so loud Jisung can feel it pulse through his chest. 

Scanning the faces of the Pretties makes his heart drop; each face is so beautiful, so perfect, and each body is carefully sculpted. Jisung is hit by the feeling of self-hate and it makes tears pool in his eyes. 

It was a mistake to come here.

The realization isn’t sudden, he’s known this whole time. This adventure could only go wrong. Who is he, an Ugly, to intrude on the lives of the Pretties?

Trembling with the attempt to hold back tears, Jisung’s gaze drifts to the dance floor, to the center of the music and laughter. 

It’s there, in the heart of it all, that he sees him; his Minho. 

But here he’s so, so obviously not his. Not anymore. Not like this. Not when Minho is smiling and Jisung feels like he’s going to crumble into dust. 

Minho is dancing, his body moving smoothly to the deep bass of the song. He’s dressed in leather pants and a white silky top that makes him glow in the dim lighting of the room. From a distance Jisung can tell that he’s beautiful; he’s perfect. 

Jisung watches as another Pretty comes up to Minho and whispers something in his ear, making Minho throw his head back in laughter. Jisung grits his teeth, a surge of jealousy pulsing through him as the Pretty moves close to Minho and begins to dance with him, the pair pressed together in a near-sensual manner. 

It makes Jisung sick to his stomach. 

A big part of Jisung screams at him to turn away and go back to where he belongs, but somewhere inside of him a little voice tugs at his memories of Minho. 

He came all this way. 

He can’t back away, not when he’s so, so close. 

“We’ve closed the roof!” Someone shouts from a doorway. “No more bungee jumping tonight, sorry.”

There’s a noise of disappointment from the Pretties but they’re quick to move on, to continue dancing and chatting and laughing. 

Jisung smiles. 

Perfect. 

Minho leaves the dance floor not minutes later and Jisung trails after him, trying not to bump into anyone on his way. In front of him Minho goes through an archway, and as Jisung follows he realizes he’s in what appears to be a dining area, set up with bats of drinks and a supply of fresh food samples. 

His mouth waters a bit at the smell emanating from the snacks. 

Minho stops ahead of him to pour himself a cup of juice and Jisung follows, pushing close enough so he can feel Minho’s presence against his side. 

He’s terrified. But so, so close. 

“Lee Minho,” Jisung murmurs, his shoulder brushing against Minho’s. 

“Yes? Do I know you?” He’s missed Minho’s voice, though it’s a bit different now. 

Jisung stares at the stack of cups in front of him. “Meet me on the roof in five minutes, or I’ll go to the Council and tell them what you really thought about becoming Pretty.”

Jisung doesn’t stick around to hear Minho’s retort if he has one. Instead he slips through the crowds of Pretties and finds the stairway up to the roof. As he reaches the exit he hears the door at the bottom open, and footsteps beat against the stairs. 

The rooftop is large and empty, thankfully. Jisung walks to the closest edge and rests his hands on the rail, looking out at the lights of New Pretty. Fireworks light up the dark sky, and Jisung can’t see the stars he’s always loved to look at. 

“Hey! Who are you, what do you want with me?” Minho calls, making Jisung jump, as his footfalls come ever closer. 

Jisung takes a breath and turns around. 

Minho is Pretty, is the first thing his brain registers. Minho’s skin is evenly pale and his hair is a dark blue, and his eyes are cat-like. His cheekbones are more prominent than they had been and his lips are a pretty pink and a bit fuller. His eyebrows are perfectly arched and his freckles are gone, replaced with a pair of beauty marks just below his jaw and another on his nose. In the faint lighting, Minho’s eyes glow silver, shining with a million stars - the ones missing from the sky. 

Minho is hopelessly Pretty. 

Jisung’s heart burns. 

“Hello? Why the fuck are you trying to blackmail me?” 

Jisung is snapped back to reality at the sound of Minho’s voice. He notices it’s changed slightly; it’s become a bit higher and warmer. 

Jisung fumbles with the mask, tugging at the ribbons and letting it fall away. Instantly Minho’s eyes go wide with recognition, quickly turning to panic. “Jisung? What the hell are you doing here?” 

“No ‘hi,’” Jisung mutters under his breath. Minho must hear him because his expression relaxes just slightly.

“What are you doing here, Jisung?” Minho asks again, and this time his voice is softer, but there’s discomfort in his gaze. “You can’t be here.” 

“I missed you,” Jisung works up the courage to say. “I thought...that there was a reason you haven't messaged me back. But I guess I was wrong.” Partying, that’s what seems to keep the Pretties busy. 

“Jisung, that’s not fair—” 

“No!” Anger billows up in Jisung’s chest and the ferocity of his voice makes Minho take a step back with widened eyes. “We were best friends, Minho. You said you wouldn’t leave me! You said,” Jisung feels his throat close up and finds it impossible to hold in his tears. “You said you wouldn’t leave me alone to my thoughts, but it’s been nearly two years and you haven’t honored those words. Do you know how alone I’ve been? Do you know how many times I’ve just wanted to give up? I thought coming here would reassure me that you care still, but now that I know that you’re...fine, I’ll just leave.” Jisung sniffles and rubs at his eyes with his sleeves. He goes to turn away, to escape this roof, to escape Minho, but before he can his arm is tugged and he’s tripping over his feet and crashing against a hard chest.

“Jisung…” Minho smells of the fruitiness of whatever the Pretties were drinking downstairs and of the constant summer fun New Pretty holds. He smells so different from the deodorant and occasionally the cheap cologne he wore back when he was with Jisung. 

Jisung suddenly feels incredibly out of place. Not the setting, he’s felt that way about New Pretty through this whole trip, but about Minho’s embrace. For the first time he finds discomfort in Minho’s hold.

“I have to go,” Jisung whispers, tugging his way free of Minho’s embrace. “Just...I just wanted to see you.” 

“Jisung…” Minho looks like he wants to pull Jisung back, but he doesn’t. 

“You look,” Jisung hunts for a word to describe Minho’s tragically beautiful appearance, but can’t choose. He settles for the easiest one. “Pretty.” 

He sees Minho wince, and feels a bit of guilt at being the cause of his temporary repulse. 

“Thanks, Jisung,” Minho says, playing with the sleeve of his top. “You look good, too.” 

Jisung snorts at that, feeling a stab of hurt right through his heart. “I’m Ugly, Minho. I don’t look ‘good.’ Especially around all your Pretty friends.” His thoughts drift back to the man Minho had been dancing with. “You should go back now, I’m sure they’re waiting for you.” 

He turns away again, set on exiting. Just as he grabs his mask and is about to put it on his wrist is grabbed and he’s pulled back around. 

He notices a moment too late that Minho’s hand is directly on his skin. 

Minho grabs Jisung’s other arm so he can’t escape and removes his hand, staring at Jisung’s ridged skin from where his sleeve had slid up. 

“Han Jisung,” when Minho looks up his eyes are clouding over with tears, and his voice cracks half way through Jisung’s name. He looks beautiful this upset - it’s sickening. “This isn’t r-real, right? Please tell me—” 

Jisung rips his arm away, his pulse skyrocketing. “You don’t get to be upset about anything I do,” Jisung hisses, feeling the venom of his words rush through his own veins. “Not when you haven’t bothered to find me in two years. Not when you haven’t thought about me.” 

“Jisung,” Minho looks desperate, his eyes glistening and so wide with something akin to fear. 

Jisung feels his chest crack open as tears that shine like jewels slide down Minho’s perfect cheeks. “I love you, Minho. I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember. But I can’t be, now. Because…”

“Because I don’t know you anymore.”

**Author's Note:**

> tell me if you guys want more parts :]  
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